from the cacophony of my thoughts better than being naked with Blake. I suspected the same was true for him.
“I miss you.”
His face relaxed and I smiled, relieved. He stroked my face reverently, tracing a path from my cheek to my chin. Before I could say anything more, he angled his lips over mine and took my mouth in a kiss. Soft and tender, the kiss quickly became heated. He pulled away abruptly.
“What?”
He looked past me. “I can't do this right now.”
“What do you mean?”
I straddled him the way I'd wanted to, my skirt inching up indecently high. I pulled him into another kiss. I arched into his chest, leaving no space between us, rabid for his touch. No sooner had I fisted my hands in his hair, he pulled back, disengaging my fingers and holding them gently by my sides.
“Erica, stop. I need…to cool off.”
Before I could question him, he patted my thigh gently, a signal to move off of him. Slowly I obliged. He retreated to the kitchen where he started to clean up. I joined him and started helping, but he stopped me.
“It's okay. I'll take care of this.” He paused and faced me. Leaning against the counter with his hip, he looked deceptively casual considering the tension that rolled off him. “Listen, I've got some work to do for tomorrow, and it sounds like you do too. Do you mind if we call it an early night?”
I searched his eyes for answers, but he seemed as cold and closed off as ever. I stared, stunned and speechless, swallowing hard as the rejection settled over me. Had I pried too much? Didn't he understand my reasons for wanting to know?
Everything I thought to say back sounded feeble, desperate, in my mind. Why don't you want to be with me? Why can't I stay? The thought of him answering those questions honestly scared me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know why he didn't want me tonight.
*
My apartment was empty and lifeless with no signs of Sid or Alli to console the loneliness and hurt that washed over me. Blake had never shot me down before. I was dressed to kill and the man had a marathon sex drive. Somehow we’d survived the past few days outside of each other’s beds, but now he was pushing me away?
I dropped my purse on the counter and stood in the quiet darkness of the room, trying to figure out how Blake's confession about his past had driven such a wedge between us. I went to the bedroom and assessed myself in the mirror. I felt terrible. Blake hadn't just shot down a night in his bed. That he didn't want me cut me to the core, leaving me with a sick and hopeless feeling.
No. I couldn't let this go.
I headed back out, grabbing my keys on the way.
I let myself into Blake’s apartment but he was nowhere to be found. I walked down to his bedroom where I heard the shower running. I hesitated at the doorway leading into the en suite bathroom. Through the glass, I could see Blake’s hands pressed against the wall, water pouring down his massive unmoving frame. He was beautiful, despite the sadness that had crept over us and threatened our night. I took another step forward. He turned his head toward me.
I stood still, waiting for his reaction. He turned off the shower. My breath caught at the sight of him as he emerged. Under normal circumstances Blake was a sight to behold. Now, stark naked and dripping wet, he could not have been more impressive. A prime specimen of masculine beauty.
Goosebumps beaded his skin and his cock was as hard as stone, jutting out from his formidable frame.
What the fuck?
“Blake.” My voice was barely a whisper.
“What do you want, Erica?”
His voice was flat, his face expressionless, as if I were a stranger. He toweled himself dry methodically.
“I—”
I had no words. My grand plan to sneak back into his apartment and seduce him, to not take no for an answer, had been shot to hell by the sudden realization that seduction might be a lost cause.
“Go home, Erica. I told you, I've got work to do.”
“Bullshit. Do you
1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas